


Wasted Souls

by lovely925



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Animal Death, Character Death, Drug Use, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Home Invasion, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Medicinal Drug Use, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Original Character(s), Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Drug Use, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Suicide Attempt, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Unconventional Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-05-20 06:11:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14889143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovely925/pseuds/lovely925
Summary: Cora has known nothing but alcohol and chems since her earliest memories.  Born into a post-apocalyptic wasteland to parents addicted to modified drugs, Cora learned from an early age that this was the only way to cope with the heat of a dying world.Xavier is haunted.  Victim of an experiment just before the war of 2077, there isn’t a day that he doesn’t yearn for his humanity.  Unable to cope with his loneliness, he almost lets a pack of feral ghouls rip him to shreds when a young girl, clearly drunk and high on chems, stumbles blindly onto the scene and gives him purpose.Max has grown up with a small community inside the Corvega ruins of Lexington.  Though he has always been taught to shoot first and ask questions later, it never sat well with him.  His father, a high-ranking lieutenant, often kidnaps and tortures the lost and unsuspecting souls wandering the wasteland.  He never had a reason to question Max’s allegiance until they pillage a small, peaceful farm on the outskirts of the commonwealth.  Max feels something for the abducted girl that he’s never felt for anyone, and his personal morals come to light when his father, Gristle, decides to use her to test Max’s allegiance to the raider community.





	1. Cora

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for choosing my fic! Please note:  
> 1) I don't have time to extensively edit  
> 2) I don't have a beta-reader  
> 3) I'm all for concrit if you are so inclined.  
> \--->if you see any tags that should be added, I'm open to suggestions  
> 4) Updates will not be consistent, as I have a full-time job and I am also working on two other original novels.  
> 5) If you notice a change of tense between character point of views, this is on purpose. I'm experimenting with it for a novel I'm working on.

     The bells around the Brahman’s neck resonate a deep cling as she shifts under the relentless summer sun.  Xavier pats the flank to calm her, and Bella dips her head down to continue grazing.  Ella lowers her own head so that Bella can reach the grass, but instead of continuing to graze like her Siamese twin, she lovingly nudges Xavier with her snout.  

     We've had Ella and Bella since she was a calf.  She is Xavier's girl, and they adore each other.  I love her too, though, and I sometimes wonder if she's more than just a Brahman behind those four cloudy eyes.  She must have a soul, no creature can be so affectionate without one.

     Insects hum, hidden in the stalks of grass that sway lazily in the hot, summer breeze.  Thin wisps of stark white clouds slide by above, unable to shield us from the unforgiving heat.

     I watch from where I perch near the tato plant and smile for no particular reason other than the simple fact that I am finally content.  Even something as basic as watching my protector milk the Brahman thrills me with happiness.

     Life hasn’t always been so easy, but I am grateful for my friend, our small farm, and our life together.

     Xavier pets the animal twice more, once on each head, and even bothers to kiss each nose, before he stands and takes the metal bucket with him to the house.  It sloshes as he passes me by.  The rich, gritty scent of fresh milk fills my nose and begs me to leave my chores behind.

     I turn back to the plants, not daring to go inside until my work is finished.  I must weed, water, and check each plant for bits that need to be pruned.

     A hot breeze dances across my dry flesh as a raven lands near-by and turns his beady eye to observe me.  Am I a threat?  I only watch him as he tilts his head, and hops closer. 

     I glance down at a ripening tato and decide that it has grown enough on the vine.  Half of it is red while the other half, which faces toward the stalk, is still green.  It’s time to let it sit on the table for a day or two.

     When I look back at the raven, he is picking at the ground, maybe at the ants.  My eyesight has gone bad from years of walking unprotected the wasteland.  At this distance, I can’t discern the ground from the tiny things crawling over it.  I squint until I feel as though my eyes will burst, but still no luck.

     The bird gazes at me another moment.

     “Nevermore,” I murmur.  A line from a ripped page Xavier had given me years ago with several hand-written stanzas of his favorite poem; one I now hold dear as well.

     We watch each other for several more seconds, and when I stand abruptly the raven hops back.

     “Shoo!” I tell him, and he regards me with offense.  He thought we had become friends, but I know he is only here to eat our food.

     My heart drops for him.  There isn’t much to live on in the wastes, especially for a scavenger bird.

     I dig in my pocket for an envelope containing a handful of seeds I found buried in a box, and I scatter them on the dead ground between us.

     He reaches his neck out suspiciously before hopping over and pecking at them.

     His feathers relax, and he focuses on the food I’ve given him. 

     “I don’t want to see you anywhere near our plants,” I tell him as I pick up my bandana from the ground.  “Xavier is not as forgiving as I.”

     The old, wooden stairs creak as I make my way into the pre-war house.  Xavier has done an excellent job of fixing up the main rooms; the one we sleep in, and the one we eat in.  There is still a lot of work to be done.

     “She gave a lot today,” he mentions before bringing a pitted glass to his lips.  Sweat shines across his scarred forehead and drips down his cheeks.  He plops into a chair and gestures toward the second water cup.

     I set the tato on the table against the back wall, green side up, and take my usual seat in the chair beside his couch.  I sip the purified water, though I want to gulp it, knowing that what we pump from the well is limited and rationed. 

     He routinely flips on the radio.  An old-world song, one that I will never tire of hearing, tries to break through the static.

     “Dream a little dream of me…” I mumble in unison with the woman singing as I slide a pre-war book from the coffee table.

     I feel his eyes on me as I squint at the pages and bring the book close to my face, and I can see his grin out of the corner of my eye.  Or…at least I think I can.

     He chuckles.  “Your eyes have gotten worse.”

     I glare over my book at him.  “No.”  I’m in denial.  Xavier taught me to read, and since then I’ve been addicted. 

     "Cora," he sniggers and gestures to the book in my hand.  "You grabbed my journal instead of your book.”

     I look down at the item in my hands.  “It’s all pre-war, it looks the same,” I mumble to hide my embarrassment.

     “I don’t mind,” he says gently.  “I have nothing to hide from you.”

     I raise an eyebrow at him and stick my nose further into his journal.

     “Your birthday is tomorrow.”  His onyx eyes somehow sparkle when his grin broadens.   _That_ I can see.

     I feel the heat rise in my face and I glance away as my lips twitch upward.  “Yes, it is.”  I hold back a heavy sigh, and I feel his dark eyes on me for several more moments before I look back to his marred, thin-lipped face.  “Not that it matters.”

     His grin falls a fraction, and he sets his glass on the coffee table.  “Sure it does.  It means you’ve survived eighteen years in this world.”  His tone is gentle, but only because I know him so well.  The deep gravel in his voice would have made the tenor of genuine concern imperceptible to anyone unfamiliar with him.

     I shift, pull my trousers straight, and cross my legs.  “I supposed it does.  What are you going to do for me?” I tease him.

     He leans back, relieved that I am in a good mood.  I know I tend to brood, and Xavier is a fixer.  He can’t move on with his day or go to sleep without pulling a smile from me.  So, for him, I smile and try not to get lost in my own mind.

     “It will have to be a surprise, won’t it?” he counters.

     My eyes narrow as I try to read him, but it is impossible.  “I think I’m going to finally read everything about your past.”  I give him a mischievous glance over his journal.

     The skin where his eyebrows would have been flicker upward.  “Cora, knowing my past is not a gift.”  He props his foot on his knee and takes another sip of water.  “Read away, darling.”

     I consider him.  He is not one to share, usually.  I know pieces of his history, the main bits such as the fact that he had been a soldier before the war of 2077.  I also know that he had been a human subjected to radiation tests.  I know he’d been married and had a child, both of whom had died in the nuclear blast. 

     I squint hard at the words on the page, but I can’t make them out no matter what distance the book is from me.

     He picks up the same Boston Bugle he’s read a dozen times.  He unfolds it carefully as if to keep from tearing the pages, and clears his throat as he always does when he begins reading.

     I observe him a moment more and watch as what lines I can see in his face set into focus on the story he reads.

     “When did you start this journal?” I inquire, flipping aimlessly through the dusty pages.

     He reaches up as if to scratch his nose, but remembers he no longer has one and instead rubs his ear.  “Chelsea got it for me as a wedding gift.  She thought she saw a writer in me.”  His smile is genuine and reminiscent, free of the brooding angst he usually wore.

     “I can’t read any of this,” I frown down at the journal.

     He leans forward and slides it from my lap, then settles into the side of the couch closest to me.  He flips through it for a moment, then glances up.  “Well, what do you want to know, kiddo?”

     I bite my bottom lip and chew off the layer of dry skin.  “How long were you in the vault?”

     “They froze me when the bombs fell.  They wanted to preserve me, but at one point the system failed in my pod, and in one other.  By the time I was conscious enough to get the pod open, the other occupant had already left the vault.”

     “When was that?”

     “Little less than a year before you found me.”

     I grin and my heart flutters.  He always refers to me as the one who saved him, and who gave him purpose, but really it’s always been the other way around.  Had he not already been in that feral ghoul pit when I wandered through, high on jet and drunk on whiskey, they would have torn me to shreds.

     I open my mouth to ask the question I’d been gathering the courage to ask for nearly five years.

     “Go on,” he chides gently.

     “I don’t remember much from that day…” I begin slowly.  “But I do remember seeing you just stand there when the ghouls ran toward you.  I saw your gun holstered, and your eyes were closed.”

     His mouth becomes such a thin line that it nearly disappears, and his jaw goes rigid.  I suddenly feel as if I’ve crossed a line, and I want to reach out and take my words back.  I hate making him anything other than happy.

     “I’m sorry.”  I reach for his hand.

     “Don’t,” he starts and glances down at my hand on his.  He doesn’t move to hold mine, but he doesn’t pull away, either.  “Don’t be.  I thought this might come up eventually.”  He sighs.  “I didn’t see the point of living in a world without Chelsea and Jake.  I tried, but the adjustment was brutal.  After a few months, I gave up.  I just wanted to die, and so I was going to let those ferals have at me.”  He turns his hand over to grip mine and gives me a small smile.  “But then this lost girl wandered in, and I couldn’t just let her die.”

     I can feel the blush in my cheeks, so I look away from him. 

     He squeezes my hand before he stands and stretches.  “I don’t want to use too many of the candles tonight, so get your bath before the light’s gone.”

     I nod in agreement and watch him leave to put Ella and Bella in her stall.

     The bath water is perfectly luke-warm, and it’s fresh and purified.  I shake my head as I strip and slip into the tub.  I’ve tried telling Xavier that I can bathe in the irradiated water, I don’t mind, but he refuses to let me.  I tell him there is no point in working so hard and using so much good water to wash my filth.  He says there is no point in harming my body more than I have already.

     I lean my head against the lip and stare up, through the broken roof, into the sky and the dying light.  My eyelids are heavy, and I’m nodding off into a comfortable doze.  I vaguely hear Xavier walking around the house, wrapping up the last of our chores before the sunlight is gone.  Sometimes he hums along with the radio, sometimes he mutters to himself.  It all makes me smile to myself.

     A deep, haunting howl resonates in the distance, somewhere in the west.  I don't recognize it, but my lungs freeze anyway, and a painful shiver courses over the expanse of my skin.  Pure fear petrifies me.

     Xavier stops abruptly in the hall to listen, and when the next howl sounds significantly closer, he scurries down the rest of the hall and bursts into the bathroom.

     He is frantic and, seeing that I am completely ill-prepared, grabs my towel off the back of the chair.

     “Out,” he commands.  Without giving me the chance to obey, he reaches into the water to grab my arm and wraps the towel around me.  I drip all over him, and all over the floor.  My hair is soaked and the towl isn't enough to keep me dry.

     “What…” I shiver when there is a snarl just on the other side of the farm.

     He claps a hand over my mouth and ushers me to the back of the house, into the pantry where we store the preserved food.

     I struggle to keep my towel up in his haste to hide. 

     To my surprise, he pulls back a shelf and pries away part of the wall behind it to reveal a tiny hidden room.

     He pushes me in, and there is barely enough space for me, much less for a full grown man.  Regardless, he yanks the shelf back into place, and carefully pieces the wall back together.

     I stand, terrified, and he looks over my wilted, dripping form.

     He puts a finger to his lips, then settles on the ground and pulls me into his lap, regardless of the fact that I will soak his clothes all the way through.   

     “Super mutants,” he mutters into my ear.

     In all of my seventeen years, super mutants are the one thing I’ve thankfully never run into.

     His arms constrict around me as the ground shakes and their angry voices come from outside the house.

     One of them barrels through the front door, and a terrified squeal escapes me.

     Xavier covers my mouth again and holds me tight against him.  His chest heaves against my back.

     “Humans!” one of them roars.

     I quake in fear, and Xavier presses his forehead against my temple in an effort to comfort me.  It doesn’t work.

     I can hear the roots of all our plants being ripped from the ground.  The plants I’ve slaved over for weeks and months to grow in an impossibly barren soil.

     Bella and Ella let out a frightened mewl, searching for her dad and undoubtedly terrified of being alone.  The mutants shift their attention to the stable.

     I struggle against Xavier.  I want to save her.  It’s not fair that she is trapped, unable to run from them and save herself.

     “What do you think you can do?” he hisses aggressively into my ear.

     Tears leak from my eyes, trail down my cheeks and over his fingers as the Brahman cries in pain.  There is a sound like a hide being ripped, and she screams.  I did not know, until this moment, that an animal could make such a sound.  Whatever they are doing to her, they take their time.

     Xavier keeps one hand over my mouth as I cry, but covers my right ear with his other and holds my head against my chest.  He hums our song quietly to me so that the low hum of his voice resonates straight from his chest, deep into my ear.

     Then they are in the house again, looking for us.  They can smell us, but luckily they don’t think to look inside the walls.

     I quiver against Xavier.  Now he can’t whisper comforting words to me, so instead, he settles on pressing his lips against the top of my head.

     “No humans here,” one of them says, disappointed.  He is very near, grabbing our food from the pantry.

     I squeeze my eyes shut until they move on, and even then we stay in the hidden room, just in case they decide to double back.

     I sob into Xavier’s shirt.  He strokes my hair and quietly tells me that it will be alright, but Bella and Ella’s tortured cry echoes through my head and that is all I can hear.  This is not a nightmare I can wake from.


	2. Max

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gets a bit graphic, so please review the tags before proceeding if you have triggers.
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)  
> ~Lovely

     My head throbs and my limbs feel as if I'm strapped down.  Someone is saying my name, and it sounds like it’s coming from the far side of a tunnel.

_Max…maaaaax…MAX_

     My eyes burst open just as a searchlight passes over me, piercing my pupils with its stabbing fluorescence.  My ears throb at the collective sound of the turret engines, chugging back and forth, sweeping the factory for signs of anyone who doesn’t belong.

     “Super mutant knocked ya’ good.”  My dad is mocking me.  Once my double vision focuses, I find him grinning down at me from his chair.

     He reaches into the blue cooler on the table beside him and pulls out a syringe.  “Take a bit of this, you’ll feel better.”

     I don’t even have the energy to open my mouth, much less tell him that I don’t feel like sticking myself.

     When I take too long to answer, he does it for me and pricks me right in my thigh.

     I do begin to feel better almost immediately, and I sit up slowly, testing my equilibrium.

     “How long?”  The question is slurred and feels like cotton in my mouth.

     “Few days.  We thought you were a goner.  Had blood comin’ out your ears and everything.”  He slaps me on the back and I wince when my head gives an extra firm throb.

     He hands me a rare can of purified water.  “Drink up.  We need you to patrol the night shift.”     

     As my pain ebbs, irritation grabs hold of me.  “Did we get anything from the mutants?” I ask as I stand and stretch gingerly.  My body is all kinds of sore.

     He shakes his head, his stark-white Mohawk sways a little and stands with me.

      I seethe.  “Then what was that all for?” I demand, not believing that I nearly died for no reason.

      He strokes his weathered and overly-tanned chin.  “Well, we did hear them talk about ransacking a farm to the east."

      I turned so he doesn’t see me roll my eyes.  “What good is a ransacked farm?”

      I look over my shoulder at him when he doesn’t answer, and he is grinning smugly with his arms crossed.

      “Well?”

      “They said that they smelled humans.  Their hounds were going nuts, but they couldn’t find them, thought maybe they’d taken off just before they got there.  You and I know that mutants aren’t the smartest bunch.”

      I try to imagine where he is going with this, but the truth is my father and I never see eye to eye on anything.  I can’t track his train of thought for shit.

      “I think they were hiding.”

      I watch a gloating smile spread across his face. 

      “So?  It’s still ransacked, there won’t be any supplies or animals.”

      He frowns with disapproval.  “The farmers will still be there.”

      I wipe sweat from my upper lip to mask my scoff.  “Doubtful.  They’ll be out of food and water, their crops pulled up…if anything they’ll come here looking for supplies.  Lexington is the closest city.”

      His lips turn up in a devilish smile, and his eyes smolder with dark desires.  “Exactly.  We’ll ambush them on their way in.”

      I sigh and rub my temples.  My headache is coming back.  If I had any say, I’d have a scout go out, see which direction they are headed in, and set up an ambush in an area with plenty of rubble.

      Knowing my father, he will head out aimlessly into the wasteland with his band of idiots and wander until they run out of water.  He’ll do it with no real plan, and no structure.

      I glance over him and wonder if we are actually blood-related.  It’s not the first time this thought has crossed my mind.  We are different enough that it would make sense if he had abducted me.

      There have been too many witnesses, though.  Too many people, fellow raiders, who saw what I call atrocities against my birth mother.  They call it normal and a way of life.

      No one dares deny my heritage as a bastard born of a violated girl’s womb.  Gristle often boasts of how, after I was taken from her, she begged for her life, promising to bear him more children.  Her head fell from her shoulders before she could finish her plea.  I’d been less than an hour old.

      “Gear up, knucklehead.  We leave at dawn.”

      I rub my temples as if it might make his abrasive tone a little more bearable.

      “Can you give me some time to recover?” I ask irritably.

      “You have tonight,” he says rigidly.

      A high-pitched squeal shatters my eardrums and sends a crackling bolt of pain across my right temple.

      A small body collides with Gristle and latches onto him tightly.  I don't need to watch them to know Kitty has locked her lips with my father’s.  The sick smacking and slurping is soon followed by gasping and moaning.

      I take my leave to the kitchen and looking for something that will satiate my angry belly.  Iguana bits, squirrel on a stick, dirty water, and Kitty’s Vault-Tec lunch pale occupy the fridge while a healthy stack of Brahman steaks sit in the freezer, begging to be grilled up.  I don’t feel like doing all of that work, so instead, I grab Kitty’s lunch and open it on the table.

      Carrots, a perfectly preserved pack of gumdrops, a can of purified water, and a preserved noodle cup tempt me.

      I grin to myself.  Nothing would piss her off more than if someone ate her hard-earned, radiation-free lunch.

      I sit facing the door and chew slowly to savor every bit of flavor, knowing that it won’t make me sick later.  I enjoy the crack and hiss of the can, and I sip the clean, cold water.

      “Ain’t that Kitty’s?”

      My eyes pop open.  Jukes stands at the sink filling a glass with dirty water.

      I move my mouthful of carrot into my cheek so I can answer.  “Yup.”  The chunks roll back over my tongue and grow even smaller as my teeth slowly chop them.

      “She ain’t gonna be happy with you, bud.”

      I swallow.  “Nope.”

     He stands across the table from me and runs a hand over his shaved head.  “Go easy on `er, Max, she’s still just a girl.”

     My eyes flicker over him and then rest on the wall behind him.  “Nah.”

     Jukes shakes his head and leaves me alone with Kitty’s lunch. 

     The guy is similar to me in many aspects.  He has moral lines, too, but we each draw ours differently.  Some who call themselves pure-race raiders have no morals at all.  They take whoever and whatever they please, regardless of hurting a fellow raider. 

     They will defend a raider territory to the death, but when things are slow, when they get bored, they will hurt whoever, and take whatever, strikes their fancy.  Even their own clan.

     Familial raiders, like Jukes, protect their own kind to the death.  Whether it’s his sister, or a stranger screaming for backup, as long as it’s another raider Jukes will be the first to step up and help.

     Then there is me.  Max.  If anyone knew how I truly felt, Gristle would be the first in a long line of volunteers to skin me alive.  I grew up here.  I was raised by these people, but ever since I found out what had really happened to my mother, my view of the people in this community has turned sour.  I’d sooner blow Kitty’s head off than kick a dog.

     But this is my secret.  The longer I go on with this facade, the harder it is to keep it going.

     I glare at Kitty’s lunch pail as I swallow the last bit of her decadent lunch.  Somehow, the damn thing has offended me.

     I toss it in the sink with such firm resentment that it dents the side.

     I grab my pistol from the locker in my room and start my night shift watch.

     A cry echoes through the hall as I stroll past a room.  The door is open a crack, and a woman rests on her knees with her hands bound behind her back.  Her hair is a matted mess, and blood is smeared from her nose across her right cheek.

     I take several more paces beyond the room when she screams and begs for her captor to not hurt her anymore.

     I stop, sigh, and retrace my steps back to the room.

     “Nothin’ to see here,” says Jaxx as I slip in.  His eyes are hungry and fixed on the woman.

     Tears stream down her face and she looks to me with her large, round, green eyes for help.  They shimmer with tears and fear.

     “He ain’t gonna help you!” Jaxx bellows and backhands her so hard that she falls onto her side.

     “Why is she here?” I ask him, checking that my gun isn’t missing any bullets.

     Jaxx shrugs, “Somethin’ to play with.”

     “What’ll happen to her when you get bored?”

     Jaxx grins sadistically, I notice he’s missing one of his front teeth and raises the gun in his right hand.  He aims it at the girl’s head and pretends to fire.

     The visual makes her break down and sob uncontrollably.

     This only enrages Jaxx.  He advances two angry steps and curls his fingers into her hair to yank her back onto her knees.  “What’d I tell you about crying?”

     She pulls a sharp breath in, and her face turns red as she holds her breath, trying to keep her cries from escaping.

     “Good little bitch,” he purrs, gazing down at her through half-closed lids.  He strokes her cheek with the barrel of his gun.

     She shudders and squeezes her eyes shut when he grabs her chin with his free hand.

     “Don’t waste her yet,” I tell him, squeezing back into the hall.  “I’ll want a piece of her when you’re through.”

     He pulls his zipper down and presses the gun to her temple.  “You bite, you die.  Then, poor Max here will have to play with a body without a head,” he tells her gently as if speaking to a child.  “He prefers a pretty face.”

     The rest of my patrol is fairly uneventful.  I go to the roof and squeeze off a few rounds at some feral dogs on the ground, but miss on purpose. They snarl and move on down the road.

     Just after I get to my room, set the pistol in my locker and pull off my shirt, a furious primal scream emanates from the kitchen and tumbles down the hall.

     I grin, knowing that the sound belongs to Kitty, and she has just opened her pail to find it empty.

     I hear her charge down the hall and she is almost unrecognizable when she bursts into the room.  Red-faced, teeth bared and snarling, her deadly glare finds me immediately and only deepens when she sees my triumphant smile.

     “You!” she sputters.

     I toss my shirt into the corner and cross my arms.  “Yes.  Me.  Have you finally realized that I’m your one true love?” I tease.

     She lets out a growl and launches herself at me, nails first.  She swipes, but I dodge her and grab her wrist.  She was never much of a fighter.

     “Do you know what I had to do to get that food?!”

     I grab her other wrist when it hurtles at me, and twist her arms behind her back so she can’t wriggle away.

     I push my mouth to her ear and slam her against the wall, then press my swelling cock against her backside.

     “Yes,” I hiss.  “And I know you’ve been saving the pieces for months.”

     She struggles uselessly as I gather both wrists in one hand so I can pull her pants over her ass.

     My hate for her only feeds the blood to my loins and I pull her several inches away to bend her over.  I don’t care that her face has smacked the wall and her nose bleeds.

     “I’ll scream,” she spits the threat over her shoulder.

     “Do it,” I dare her.  “Everyone knows you go between us, anyway.”  I pull my hardened member through the zipper of my jeans and give it a firm stroke.  “No one’s going to give a shit that you don’t want it this one time.”

     She whimpers when I shove into her.

     I sigh as the tension melts from me.  It’s been too long.

     I pull out and grab a handful of her hair before pumping back in as hard as I can.

     She cries in pain, but as I gather rhythm she begins to moan and rock back into me.

     “Dirty little slut,” I tell her breathlessly. 

     “Fuck me harder, daddy,” she moans.

     I pull away, throw her onto the mattress, and funnel my hatred into obliging her.

               


	3. Xavier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for choosing my fic! Please note:  
> 1) I don't have time to extensively edit  
> 2) I don't have a beta-reader  
> 3) I'm all for concrit if you are so inclined.  
> \--->if you see any tags that should be added, I'm open to suggestions  
> 4) Updates will not be consistent, as I have a full-time job and I am also working on two other original novels.  
> 5) If you notice a change of tense between character point of views, this is on purpose. I'm experimenting with it for a novel I'm working on.

Crows and other scavenger birds cawed as they circled the devastation in the yard. Bloatflies hummed lazily just beyond the wall, feeding on the brahmin’s carcass.

Xavier was already awake when her eyes fluttered open. Pale sunlight trickled into their tiny hiding space and illuminated her peaceful features. Smoothed over, young, free of her anxiety and burdens as she slept soundly. Now that she was awake, her brows furrowed and the shallow lines on her tan forehead became visible.

The weight and warmth of her head remained on his chest, even when she lifted it to look at him.

“Happy birthday, kiddo,” he greeted gently while he brushed her tussled hair behind her ear.

There was no such thing as gentleness with a ghoul. His pre-war government had seen to that, but for Cora, he tried.

She smiled briefly before panic scampered frantically over her face. Her sky-blue eyes glanced at the outer wall as if she could see through it to the barn beyond.

He was glad she couldn’t. About an hour after the mutants left, bloatflies had buzzed in and they hadn’t gone yet.

The towel slipped down her lean back, and he gently tugged it up, careful to avoid brushing her inappropriately.

Her sandy, sun-bleached hair had dried as she slept against him, and the left side of her head stuck at odd, clumped angles.

Her nimble fingers secured the towel just below her collarbone. Her fingernails still had dirt beneath them. She hadn’t even had time to scrub herself before the attack.

Using the wall as support, Xavier clambered to his feet. He tried to keep from sticking his face somewhere it didn’t belong, but the room was small.

Cora crowded herself in the corner to give him more room to stretch his long legs.

He pieced the wall apart, pushed the shelf away, and held his hand out to assist her through the wreckage.

Her eyes wandered the scene, and the more she took in, the tighter she pressed her lips together until they nearly disappeared. The brim of her lower eye line shined with gathering tears.

Shelves had been bent and smashed, and whatever food was left had been opened and dumped on the floor, spoiled. The mutants were merciless.

“Here,” he murmured, curling an arm around her back and sweeping her legs up, hoisting her small frame into his arms. Her face was closer to his than it had ever been. He’d not once entertained a romantic notion with Cora, but now with her so close, barely clothed, vulnerable…

He cleared his throat and his mind. She was still a child. For God’s sakes, he was several hundred years older than her.

Xavier proceeded over the rubble and deposited her gently into their bedroom, which miraculously had been left fairly unscathed.

Her hand lingered against his chest while she glanced around, and he found himself hoping she would leave it there.

He noticed she avoided looking through the pitted window. Thankfully it was not easy to see through, though she could have walked up to it and squinted out to see the devastation if she’d wanted.

Her glance up at him melted his heart. “Will we stay here?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.

Xavier didn’t want to think about that now. They’d made a home…a fairly sustainable home, and it had taken far too long. For a year he’d had to make trips to Lexington, leaving her alone to tend to the house while he scavenged for any scraps of food and clothing he could find. He’d run himself ragged going back and forth quickly because he was always afraid that someone unsavory would stumble upon their home while he was gone and take his Cora away from him.

He turned away as his eyes burned at the thought. He couldn’t bear it.

He cleared his throat. “I uh…I don’t know, sweetheart. We’ll have to play it by ear.” He turned back to her and noticed that she’d picked up her old blue sundress from the ground. It was the dress she’d been wearing when she found him, and she hadn’t worn it since that day.

She shook the dust from it and he had to turn quickly away when she loosened the towel and let it fall to the floor.

“I’ll just…” He didn’t finish his sentence before he left the room and went to survey the disaster in the yard.

Back-tracking to grab his rifle from where it had been apparently “hidden” from the mutants above the front door, he stepped confidently and aggressively from the house, yelling at the bloatflies and brandishing his gun.

They rose from their feast on his pet and buzzed menacingly above the carcass.

“Get away!” he yelled and brought the butt of the gun against his shoulder.

They did not move, but only stared at him as he inched closer.

“Get away from her!” His voice cracked as the haunting sounds of his poor, dying pet echoed through his mind. He had not expected the emotion to come on so suddenly.

The two oversized bugs gave an angry buzz and launched themselves toward him.

He let off two shots, and they fell to the ground, twitching, beside his beloved Brahmin. 

Xavier took a moment to look around at his destroyed yard. Ella and Bella stunk to high heaven. Her body was oozing something unnatural and he was fairly certain, without looking at her directly on, that the bloatflies had laid eggs in her.

The garden had been ripped apart. Not a single plant was left. He trod through it, just in case a root might be left untouched…but no. Every single plant had been stripped and what was worse; all of the root plants had been ripped up, taken a bite out of, and thrown out by the water pump, which he noticed had thankfully not been touched. The relief of knowing they still had water lifted a heavy burden from his shoulders.

His eyes swept to the other side of the yard where his magnificent barn, the pride of the farm, lay in a heap of kindling wood and toothpicks.

Finally, regretfully, he looked down at Ella and Bella, and he felt himself go numb as his mind fought to protect him from thinking too much of what she must have gone through.

Her heads had been ripped mercilessly apart and each leg had been broken and laid bent at unnatural angles. Ella’s hide hung loose from her muscle all the way down her flank, and he noticed two flat, pink objects littered at his feet as he came to a stop.

With a jolt he realized they were tongues.

Xavier took a shaky breath in. Better the Brahmin than Cora he thought, though it didn’t make him feel any better. He’d loved that animal like it was his wasteland child. The first of many strange animals he’d encountered in this post-war world, Ella and Bella had been abandoned as a calf in the driest and foulest of the wasteland. At first he’d been put off by her two heads. In what kind of world did a grazing cow have two heads? But she’d won him over almost immediately by her affection and loving demeanor. 

Now she laid in a bloody heap before him. He had failed her. He glanced around, hoping he could find a way to take care of her without touching her, but immediately felt it was an insult to her memory.

“I’ll lay you to rest, sweet girl,” he murmured, kneeling down to stroke her heads as if she could still feel him.

His ears perked as he heard Cora walking about the house, picking up what she could. He quickly heaved the dead Brahmin into his arms, holding his breath against the putrid smell, and carried her behind the pile of wood that used to be the barn. She loved the pasture most. There was a small watering hole that she got to visit after big rains, and the grass grew easier out here than anywhere else around their small home. This was where he wanted to bury her.

Xavier laid her down gently, and just as he stood and took several steps back, he felt a gentle touch on his elbow. He looked down to find Cora misty-eyed with a hand over her mouth.

“You don’t need to see this…” he started, intending to gather her away from the graphic scene.

She stopped him. “No…I…I need to. It’s horrible but I need to remember this.” Her voice was stronger than he expected. He thought it might be thick with sorrow, or waver with fear, but it was firm and steady, held together with anger.

He wanted to slide his arm around her shoulders and pull her to his side, but the scent of rotting flesh emanated from his shirt, and he didn’t want to contaminate her with it.

Despite this, she hugged herself to his side with her arm around his waist, and rested her head against his chest. Again, he did not want her to leave.

“Will you bury her?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “We might be able to stay. The water purifier wasn’t damaged, and I might be able to make a day trip to Lexington. If we stay, we won’t want her body out here rotting, attracting god knows what.”

She nodded against him.

“It’s still early, I can have her buried by noon.”

“I’ll pick up what I can of the mess in there,” she gestured back toward the house with her thumb. “But there’s a couple things I won’t be able to move.”

He squeezed her arm and she went back to the house obediently.

By noon, Xavier wiped the sweat from his forehead and admired his work. The grave had been deep, nothing but a death claw or super mutant would be able to get to her, and a small white cross, fashioned with some remains of the barn, stood at the head of the grave.

“What is that?” Cora inquired, handing him a glass of water.

He sipped and looked from her to the cross and back. He often forgot how little she knew, how little survived the old world.

“It’s to mark the grave so I can come visit her if I want.”

Cora looked horrified. “Why would you do that?”

He held back an amused chuckle at her ignorance. “Before the war, we buried our loved ones. Well…some of us did. We buried them side by side and marked each grave with this cross and put their name on it.”

“A cross?” she inquired. Half her glass was gone and he was worried she might be drinking it too fast.

He nodded and chose not to say anything about the water. “It’s a religious symbol. Spiritual. Those of us who chose to believe in God also believed that his only son died on this cross for our sins. Not this exact one,” he clarified, noting her horrified expression had resurfaced. “It’s just a symbol, Cora.”

He could go into depth about his faith with her, but decided that today was not that day. She was a curious girl, and open to many things. He had anticipated, even looked forward to sharing this part of himself with her, but the time had never felt right. When she was on chems, he was afraid she’d feel like he was judging her, and in turn feared she’d leave him. When she was depressed, suicidal, he felt she could’ve used the knowledge of his faith most at that point in her life, but she had not been receptive.

After this devastation, though, might be a good time. After surviving a super mutant attack, she might be open to it, but today he was tired. Tomorrow he would talk with her.

The rest of the day slid by just as hot and dry as the last, and may a little less hot and a little less dry than the next. The Earth seemed to bake more thoroughly the longer he lived in this hell of a future.

By evening, when the sun was low in the sky, they had cleaned up the debris and set aside the larger clutter, and their living space was fairly back to normal. Cora had disappeared to draw a bath. He did not feel like fighting with her tonight about the purity of her bath water, so he checked the nook inside the kitchen counter, further back than Cora could reach. All day he avoided looking to see if her birthday goodies were still there for fear that she’d see him and wonder what he was up to. He’d been saving it for her birthday, and he hoped the super mutants had not stolen or destroyed it.

His arm reached, his fingers stretched, and finally his nails scraped against a cardboard box he had kept hidden for the better part of six months.

With a wide smile he struggled until he found a flap to grip, and slid it through the length of the cabinet and into his other waiting arm.

Crouching in the kitchen, feeling slightly guilty for keep a secret from his friend, he opened the box to find that all of the items were still there. Use, half-burnt candles he found in a department store and various radiation-free, perfectly-reserved foods he’d scrounged up in a grocery store after gunning down at least twenty feral ghouls. His most prized object, though, was his favorite poem, the same one that Cora had come to love and adore. He had found a book in decent shape by the same poet with most of the poems still intact. He’d had to hand-write some of the stanzas, but he couldn’t forget that poem if he tried.

By the time he heard her rise from the water, darkness had fallen, but their living room had been thrown into a warm, candle-lit glow, and their feast of a rad-free dinner sat on the only two whole plates they had left.

When she emerged from the bedroom in her sleepwear, blue cotton short-shorts, a tan camisole, and her hair up in a messy bun, he sat reading the same Boston Bugle from the day that the Earth went up in flames.

Cora stopped short at the mouth of the hallway, a look of utter shock etched into her young face.

“Happy birthday, kiddo,” he grinned, folding the newspaper and standing from the couch.

“Is that…is that food preserved?” she asked in awe.

He nodded and watched happily as she knelt before her plate at the coffee table, and he watched her struggle to decide what she wanted to eat first.

“Mashed potatoes, steak, carrots and apples…” She was almost drooling when she looked up at him again. “How long have you been hoarding this?”

“I’ve been gathering the good stuff while I’m out and I’ve been hiding it.”

“Where?”

He grinned across the flickering candle at her. “If I were to tell you that, I wouldn’t have a hiding place anymore, would I?”

They dug in, silent at first but the discussion turned to the future and the options they had.

“We can go to Lexington,” she said through a mouthful of apple. “It’s supposed to be safer there now…”

Xavier shook his head. “It’s still not safe.”

Cora scoffed. “Safe by your standards. You could prance down the street any time of day without being attacked by anything back in your day,” she reminded him. “You forget I grew up here, and technically I’ve lived here longer than you.”

He smiled and bowed his head to her. “Of course you’re right, darling,” he mocked, and she threw him a carefully playful glare. “There are more super mutants in Lexington, more raiders.”

“There are wild predators out here, too,” she argued. “And Lexington has more shelter.”

“We wouldn’t be able to drink purified water,” he pointed out.

They watched each other chew the last of their meal and contemplated the pros and cons in silence.

He dropped his fork on to the plate and leaned back to pull the grubby and poorly wrapped package from beneath the table. He had been disappointed to find that there wasn’t even a hint of fun wrapping paper anywhere in the ruins of Lexington, so he’d been left to wrap her gift in brown paper and twine.

Her eyes widened and, though she still had a few bites left, dropped her fork, too. “Really? You got me a gift?”

Her hand brushed his as he handed it over. “We do this every year, Cora, why is it that you are always surprised?”

She shrugged as she tugged on the twine. “I guess…I dunno. No one has ever given me a gift just for my birthday. I don’t even know if it really is my birthday,” she added as an afterthought.

He felt his smile falter. “What do you mean?”

She set the twine aside and peeled the brown paper back. “My parents never really told me when my birthday was, I just know how long a year is, and when the year turns over I assume I’m a year older. I’m pretty sure my mom said my birthday is at the end of the year. We’re hardly halfway through.”

Xavier was not offended, but only shocked by this revelation. He had lived with her for more than a handful of years and not once had she mentioned this tidbit. “Well…let’s say we’re celebrating early, then.”

She’d stopped talking, and froze once the paper was peeled back. She stared at the leather-bound book he had put together for her and flipped through pages and pages of hand-written poems. “I…I can’t read it...” she looked up at him desperately. “Would you read it to me? What is it? Xavier…” she scooted around the table to him. “Please?”

Her hair brushed his face and he caught a whiff of her musk. “Of course,” he replied almost too quickly. “Let me pick up the dishes and we’ll read.”

She moved the candles to the end tables on either side of the couch while he put the dishes in the dented sink, and joined her on the couch.

She sat on her knees, waiting for him. 

He gave her a little space, not wanting to get too close or touch her without her consent, but as soon as he settled in, she moved against him so that he had to put his arm around her.

“This is a compilation of poems by the same poet that wrote our poem,” he explained, and her eyes lit up.

The urge to kiss her hit him hard, but he turned away to read the first poem, their poem, after drinking in her excited expression for a moment more. “The Raven,” he began, clearing his throat.

She nestled into him, and her body vibrated with anticipation.

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary…”

Goosebumps erupted across her skin and prickled into his own.

He continued on, and her goosebumps rose again every time he spoke the word, “Nevermore.” When he’d finished, she relaxed against him with a contented sigh.

“I just love that…I didn’t realize it was so long. I never wanted it to end.”

Without thinking, he kissed the top of her head. It was only something he did to calm her when she needed it, but now was not one of those times and he'd done it anyway.

He expected to see shock, surprise, even revulsion when she glanced up at him, but all she revealed to him was knowing.

Xavier glanced down to her lips and back up into her eyes, and finally she closed the distance to kiss him.

Euphoria exploded in his chest and trickled through him, engorging parts of him that he thought were long dead. Her lips were quite wonderful, and she tasted sweet, like apples.

“Cora,” he whispered. She had risen and halfway straddled him. He gripped her waist with the intention of keeping her from doing so, but found himself frozen, as if he couldn’t let himself keep her from what she wanted.

Her heavy, sweet breath hit his face. “You’ve taken care of me…and you’ve taught me things. Been with me through some horrible times. I want to show you that…that I appreciate you…”

He moved a few inches away to look at her dead in the eye. “You do not owe me anything.”

Her eyes flittered over his chest and to the throbbing lump in his trousers. “I know that,” she told him slowly.

He stole a glance over her, too, and quickly realized that she was no longer a girl, but a grown woman. He had not noticed when she’d budded, when her chub had smoothed over curves and toned muscle. “You’re very young, have you ever…?” The words did not want to come, because all he wanted to do now was rip her dress away and drink in what he’d only glanced over before.

Her eyes darted away and her cheeks reddened. “Well, no. The only other people I’ve ever known were my parents.” She sat back on her heels and dove into a long explanation. “Sometimes there were people that would come to trade chems for caps or whatever items we had but I never actually met them…”

He put his finger to her lips to stop her. Normally he would have loved to hear about her past, but now he could not stand it. Not when his pants were growing too tight, and he was second away from taking her where she sat.

“Cora,” he said patiently. “If you’ve never been intimate with anyone, we will need to take it slow.”

A fire lit in her eyes, and he leaned his back flat against the back of the couch when she launched herself at him, “But I want you,” she purred with a surprising softness that contradicted what he’d just seen from her.

She kissed his jaw, his ear, and to his pleasure her lips trailed lightly down his neck until she was unbuttoning his shirt to kiss his chest.

He sighed, rested his head against the couch and let her have at him for a moment. He did not want to make things more awkward, or scare her away from him, but he wanted her to know what she was getting herself into…

His breath hitched when her hand caressed the lump struggling against the zipper of his jeans. She seemed to know what she was doing, he could let her continue until she gave a cry of surprise, or scoffed in disgust…

He moaned softly as her lips kissed ever so gently across his chest, his torso, and down over his navel, and the firmness of her hand over his hardened member increased.

“Cor…Cora,” he whispered, regretfully tilting her head up so that she would look at him. She had slipped to the floor between his legs and was attempting to pull his zipper down. “You don’t have to…”

The rebellious fire was back in her eyes and she pulled his zipper down with unnecessary force. “I want to, Xavier. Do you want me to?”

His fingers trailed through her silky hair and for the first time in her presence, he voiced his feelings without filter or thought, “Oh god, of course I do, but…”

He was rendered speechless, voiceless as she pulled him from his cotton confines and plunged her mouth onto him.

Xavier heaved a large sigh when she’d pulled herself off, and dared to crack one eye open to check on her, fearing she had backed away, deciding not to finish him off. Instead, he found her gazing at his flesh with a hunger her had long forgotten a person could possess. Her hand stroked him gently, and she teased him expertly with the tip of her tongue, wiggling it up and down, and around.

He thought he might explode merely at her touch, but he managed to keep himself contained as she played with him. 

She gave a pleasurable moan, her voice vibrating pleasantly against his most sensitive parts as her mouth wrapped around him once more, and that alone nearly sent him over the edge. He liked that she liked him in her mouth. He liked that she liked playing with him, more than he thought he would.

Then she gave him a firm rub with her mouth still around him, and he pulled her up and away, afraid that he would burst inside her.

He held himself, willing himself not to give in yet, and ignored her exasperated and furious gaze.

“Mmm,” he finally managed. “You sure are experienced for someone with no experience,” he told her with a grin.

She smirked back at him. “Some of the books you got me years ago were…fun.”

He gave a laugh of disbelief as he shifted in his seat, still holding himself. “You learned that from a book?”

She became shy again, and blushed. “Did you like it?”

He barked a laugh this time. “Did I like it,” he muttered. When he looked at her again, her confidence had gone and her face was drawn with embarrassment. “Yes, I loved it. You are…very good at that, and I’d like it if we did it again sometime but I think…I think that’s enough for tonight.” He kicked himself. Who was he kidding? That wasn’t nearly enough. Images of her bare body backed up against his, breasts bouncing in his face, her slim little body straddling his…they had crossed a line and he would never have enough.

But for her sake, for her young soul, it was enough for tonight.

“I’m just…I need to use the restroom,” he muttered, embarrassed this time. “I’ll read you another poem once we’re in bed,” he promised.

She smiled contentedly, back to the casual, innocent girl he’d known for years, no hint of the sexy, aggressive beast lurking beneath.


	4. Max

We leave Kitty behind, bawling like she usually does whenever Gristle and the rest of our gang embark on a long journey.  We aren’t really sure how long this journey will end up being, but we’ve packed as much food and water as we can fit into each of our backpacks.

I’d tried to make him see sense.  I tried to come up with a plan, but he didn’t want to hear it and because he wouldn’t listen, no one else would, either.

The sun is unforgiving as we leave the boundaries of Lexington, and a strange sense of vulnerability washes over me.  There is nowhere to hide, out here, whether from a predator or from the sun and I find myself thankful for the ruins of the building and the city where I was raised.

“Mutants said it was south west,” Gristle mutters, glancing down at his compass without halting. 

For the rest of the day, we walk in a direct line to the south west toward this farm where we hope the occupants still reside, where we hope there will be food and water.  Where they hope there will be victims to use, torture and kill.

A chill courses through me and I try not to shiver outwardly.  I don’t want to hurt anyone else, but it is expected of me.  I am a raider, and I am Gristle’s son.  If I do not do what is expected without hesitation, my allegiance will come into question and that is the last thing I need.  I wouldn’t care if I had a plan, if I had somewhere to go, but for now I have to lay low and keep my thoughts to myself.

We stop once for a water break, but quickly continue on, and when the sun slides halfway down the western sky, several in the party begin to question Gristle.

“Are we headed in the right direction?” Jaxx asks him.  “Are you sure they knew what they were talking about?”

Gristle grumbles to himself and checks the compass again.

I see a small house in the distance, but I say nothing.  I hope the farmers are gone, because I can hardly bear to think of what will happen to them if they aren’t.

We follow the river until Gristle sees the house, and then he signals us to spread out and surround the house.  We all know the plan.  We watch and wait, look for evidence of someone still living there.  If there is, we continue to wait until long after the sun has set, wait until they’re sleeping deeply, and then we catch them unawares.

I slip behind their water pump and wait.  To my despair, I hear two voices; a woman and a ghoul.  At first I’m confused…those two species don’t usually mix, but their voices are light and happy, and they sound comfortable with each other.  The longer I listen to them talk about this, that, and the other, the more I realize that their life cannot be ruined by us.  The super mutants have given them enough grief, and still they believe their future is bright.

It seems like they are still cleaning up the mess that the beasts left behind.  Once, the ghoul comes out to get some water, then again and again, and I realize he is filling a bucket for  a bath.  Every time he comes back out, I don’t even dare to breathe.  Gristle would never forgive me if I gave everything away.

If I were caught, I might be able to get away with pretending that I’ve been exiled from my raider community, but I’d rather not have to lie.  These two seem to be good, loving creatures. 

Night falls, and it takes forever for them to extinguish their candles.  Their voices take on a different tone, more flirtatious, and I find myself jealous.  No one can love me the way they seem to love and depend on each other.  I don't even know if  _I'm_ capable of giving love like that.  

I hope they enjoy themselves to the fullest extent because their entire world is about to be turned upside down.


End file.
